Doctor Who Forgotten Suns Chapter Eleven
As the penultimate door before his intended destination slid aside before him, Null blinked in surprise, not entirely sure what he was seeing. He ceased his progress only for a fraction of a second, however. Before he even realized his own intentions, Null found himself running full tilt: consumed with a rage that had come from nowhere - a welcome sensation that went some way towards replacing the void inside. At the far end of this section of corridor, the lighting was already on. In fact, the general ambient lighting was just beginning to rise, although it was not yet as bright as the pocket by that door. All this registered only peripherally though - Null’s attention (and unreasoning anger!) was fixed on the two groups of small creatures that he saw; scrabbling around like some unwelcome infestation of alien vermin. There were three on the floor by the door, and three more climbing up the left-hand wall, and as he drew closer he gave vent to his fury. “What are you doing on my ship? What have you done to my ship?” He roared, hearing his own voice for the first time in some while. His shout provoked panic, and strange chirrups that could have been speech – but were more likely just the alarm calls of unreasoning animals. He could now see that they were bipedal reptiles; and began to slow down as he realized that they wore clothing of sorts - intricate harnesses or armour. Two of the lizards on the floor had produced tiny devices from their harnesses, and were pointing them at Null. He began to feel faint impacts that failed to penetrate his suit, and something like an insect sting on the bare flesh of one hand. His anger rekindled, he scattered them with an undirected swing of a booted foot. He began to step closer, intending to finish them off, when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. The creatures that had been climbing up the wall were now on the ceiling, and two of them were also reaching behind for what Null assumed were weapons. The third was falling, apparently having just been released by its companions… but there was something different about it. Suddenly he realized that it was unlike the reptiles, and reached to catch it without thinking. It landed fairly gently across the palm of his hand - thanks to the speed of his reaction - and he was about to make a closer examination when pin-prick stings began peppering his head. And they hurt! Of course, these two lizards were attacking from much closer, from just above his head. Null gently closed his fingers around the torso of the creature he had saved from falling, holding it behind himself for safety. Then he savagely swatted at the reptilian irritants above him. His aim was horrifically accurate: one of the creatures was flung against the far bulkhead, its head instantly crushed by the impact. Its fall to the floor was mirrored by the other lizard, which he had merely dislodged from the ceiling. Not content with this, Null caught it in mid-air with a back-hand swipe: one of such stunning force that the corpse flew halfway down the corridor, its spine shattered. As he turned to watch, Null noticed that a ceiling hatch was partially open. Assuming that this was where these pests had come from, he slid it closed angrily, then keyed a lock code into the pad to over-ride the manual release. It would only be a temporary deterrent, but he didn’t have time to deal with any more vermin at the moment. The pad on his right wrist had just begun vibrating against his skin, and his rapid visual check confirmed that an alert panel was flashing urgently. The doll-like figure he held in that hand… Was the source of the bio-trace that had triggered his awakening? This information was more important than anything else, but Null wanted to check on the other intruders for his own peace of mind. The two he had swept aside were crawling about woozily. He carefully stepped on each one to put them down as painlessly as he could, then turned to look at the survivor. It was hauling itself up to its feet: Null was startled to note that it bore a strong resemblance to a real person, but in miniature. He was even more astonished when it ran towards him yelling, “Leave Zoe alone, ye’ great hairy Beastie!” Null, who was totally bald, found this almost as perplexing as the fact that he could understand the tiny man’s words, but had little time to ponder this. The miniature being’s swift passage triggered the door, and it slid aside to reveal more of the lizard creatures (people?) These ones merely stood stock still, as they gazed up at him in awe. Suddenly a few of them began reaching over their shoulders and assuming aggressive stances, but the one closest to their side of the door raised an arm, and emitted an authoritative sounding string of cheeps and chirps. Perhaps it was language after all, for they all subsided - albeit with apparent reluctance. Feeling a tugging on one of the legs of his suit, Null looked down, and was amused to see the little man attempting to climb his leg - he had made it to the knee already! Null reached down and detached the thrashing assailant, then, as gently as he could, threw him towards the lizards. He was becoming impatient with all these distractions and puzzles, but also suspected that he may have been a little hasty in his assumptions. He pointed at the lizard that appeared to be in charge and said, “You are not welcome on this ship. I have something to attend to, so I will allow you this opportunity to leave peacefully. If you are still here when I return, you will be destroyed.” Without waiting for a response, he cradled ‘Zoe’ against his chest and turned away. He did not believe that they would be foolish enough to follow him. Not when they saw the remains of their comrades. Clade Commander Silandor had selected just four visual feeds to display on his personal multi-view screen, a choice made much simpler by the fact that most of the Ghost Patrol had not actually been issued with visi-com units. (A relatively new development, they were not yet in abundant supply.) At the top left, Specialist Palasar had been continuing to narrate her observations, unaware that she was no longer being watched by the enclaves. Since Thadokta’s departure, her view had mostly been focused on other team members, as they discussed their options. Silandor suspected that much more was being conveyed by hand-signals outside the range of her visi-com - it’s what he would have done in similar circumstances. To the right of this was an overall view of the team, captured by a trooper instructed to patrol the walls and ceiling, whilst the lower screens showed events as witnessed by the two Tec’s. One was merely a back-up, as the woman, Choltz, appeared to be sticking very close to Palasar; an observation confirmed by Mech-Tec Enteberol’s viewpoint. His screen was more like a docudrama - the focus followed Palasar’s activities at a slight remove - in fact, the Specialist had even started to address him directly, much like a roving news reporter. (Clever girl, the commander noted to himself: she was obviously thinking on her feet. He had no doubt that the Tec was obeying covert orders from the Specialist. Pity her performance might never reach a wider audience.) “Well’, she was now saying, her voice coming from the main speakers only, ‘I think the best thing we can do is find Thadokta’s friends, as I promised. They are probably getting a bit concerned about him by now!” Silandor watched the same scene, playing out from four different angles, as the team once more returned to the giant portal. (He idly wondered where Faramandar had managed to conceal himself and his patrol.) His attention was abruptly drawn to Palasar’s original view as, before she could reach the sensor trigger, the massive door itself slid aside once more. Unable to believe what he was seeing, Silandor stood up from his throne and gawped at the main view-screen. Silence fell across the entire command hub in that instant - even the omnipresent sounds of smoothly functioning systems seemed to fade into insignificance: perhaps the Flame herself felt intimidated by the impossibility now filling the view-screen! Silandor had never truly believed in the myth of The Ancients, had always followed the more pragmatic view of the military. (If that myth encouraged investment in expansion to the stars, it should be encouraged.) The speculations and theories, inspired by archeological ‘evidence’, had varied widely over the generations, but always proved to be a useful source of funding for the development of the fleet. The Clade Commander had not been too concerned when he found himself tasked with this mission: complacently convinced that - if anything - they would only find evidence of another space-faring species. (In itself a shock, and well worth investigating, he considered.) However, Silandor could not deny the evidence of his own eyes. This monstrosity before him could only be an Ancient, but its face! Its face was wrong! “First! Command your troops to stand down! Safe all weapons immediately! On no account is anyone to fire!” Specialist Third Palasar’s disembodied orders were like a dash of cold water for Silandor, enabling him to reign in his horror and re-assert his objectivity. The massive bipedal figure seemed to lose interest in him for a moment, reaching down for something off-screen. The view panned down to follow, first passing a limp figure clutched in one huge hand, then revealing a small Oortelianoid clambering up the monster’s leg. This insanely brave creature - probably one of Thadokta’s friends - was hopelessly outmatched! Despite its struggles, it was easily dealt with by the… by the Ancient, which then seemed to talk directly to Silandor for a while, although its booming words were totally incomprehensible. It was only when the view went chaotic that Silandor recalled his actual whereabouts. Cursing himself for getting so completely drawn in, he quickly transferred his personal multi-view to the main screen. Palasar’s screen still showed a turbulent swirl of flooring, walls, and ceiling; which was explained by Enteberol’s view. Thadokta’s friend (what else could it be?) was struggling with the Specialist, as she attempted to restrain it. Beyond them, Tec-Op Choltz appeared to be frozen solid, and she was not alone in that state. The roof-crawler view of the patrol trooper revealed that most were similarly immobilized, by disbelief or shock. Only the patrol’s First was moving, as he went to Palasar’s assistance. From above Silandor saw the First reach the struggling pair just as the alien shouted, “Let go of me, ye’ Sassenach monster! I have to be getting after Zoe!” From the side, he watched as his officer reached down and grabbed it by the shoulders, trying to wrench it away from Palasar. However, the Specialist had a firm grip on the alien, and such was the First’s steel-cord strength that she too was lifted upright. Once Palasar regained her footing, she released her hold, stepping away from the First and his struggling captive. Her screen now displayed a close-up view of the creature’s frantic - but futile - attempts to break loose. Blood coated its mouth-parts, and was beginning to stain the clothing it wore. “Oh my word!’ came a startled cry from behind Silandor’s command throne, ‘Jamie! What are you doing to Jamie?” Everything was happening with bewildering rapidity: a concatenation of impossibilities and contradictions that should have sent Palasar spiraling into mind-death, but strangely didn’t. Instead, she felt an almost detached calm. She was coping with a reality so far beyond the reach of the most creative imagineer, that the only way to deal with it was… to accept it. This derelict, this dead ship drifting in the void, was supposed to be just that – dead! Nobody, not even Palasar in her most childish fantasies, had really expected to find a living Ancient on board, but then they met one and it was not… It was not what she had expected. It had talked to her, in a voice that vibrated her tympanic membranes painfully - but the words were random gibberish. As she watched in atavistic awe, the giant had plucked another strange creature off its leg and thrown it in her direction. Unable to take her eyes off the Ancient, as it turned its back on her and began walking away, she was taken by surprise when she was suddenly driven to the floor. When Palasar got her first good look at her attacker, she realized three things in an almost instantaneous blast of intuition. Firstly, it wasn’t attacking her, but desperately attempting to get away. Secondly, it could only be one of the ‘friends’ that Thadokta had been so worried about. Finally, it appeared to be almost pathologically intent on racing after the giant Ancient, and she could not allow that. Palasar clamped her arms around it and held on grimly - it was larger than her but did not have the strength of an Oortelian - and awaited the assistance she was sure would soon be forthcoming. It suddenly yelled, “Let go of me, ye’ Sassenach monster! I have to be getting after Zoe!” just before they were both lifted off the ground. She stepped back to get a better look at it - it was the same as Thadokta, she was sure - yet its face was smoother, its behavior more violent. Still, it too spoke Oortelian… Palasar could taste fear, panic, and fury in the air - all radiating from the creature in waves. She began to speak, trying to project reassurance. “Please calm down, we mean you no harm, but if you continue to struggle against my First, you may hurt yourself. What is your name? Are you Thadokta’s friend?” “Oh aye?’ said the new alien, confusing Palasar momentarily, ‘is that why your friends back there attacked Zoe and me? Because ye’ mean us no harm?” Palasar shot an enquiring look at First, to see if he understood what it was talking about. He shook his head in a sharp negative, apparently as mystified as she was. “We have not attacked you.’ Palasar stated firmly, ‘If you are talking about the… the being you were attempting to fight, we have nothing to do with it. In fact, we have never seen it before.” “Eh? That giant space pilot? I dinnae mean him! I’m talking about the others like you, the other lizard-men back through that door!” It… No, he, Palasar decided - definitely a ‘he’ - looked completely sincere in his words (as far as she could tell,) but how could what he was saying be true? “You must be mistaken… ‘Please, it really would help if you could tell me your name?’ She listened to his sullen reply then, stumbling a little over his odd pronunciation, repeated. ‘You must be mistaken, Jamimikron, we are the only Oortelians on this vessel. We are an exploratory team - we only boarded recently.” “Jamimikron speaks the truth, Palasar.” The voice was so devoid of expression, of life, that it took Palasar a moment to recognize it as that of Tec-Op Choltz. Glancing over in irritation, she saw that the young woman was still gazing through the door, standing close enough for the proximity sensors to prevent it from closing. Pale waves of horror were rippling across her face, even though the Ancient was now gone. Palasar was about to go across to her to ask what she was talking about, when Jamimikron suddenly spoke out again. “Hey! Wait a minute! Did ye’ say something about the Doctor just now? I didnae realise earlier, I didnae ken your accent… He should be here!” The alien had settled down in First’s grip, obviously realising that his efforts were achieving nothing, but now he was looking about wildly. “Doctor!’ he shouted, than looked back to Palasar, ‘What have ye’ done with him? Where is he?” Ignoring Choltz for the moment, Palasar quickly replied. “Yes, Jamimikron, we know Thadokta! He is safe, I promise you - he has gone to see Clade Commander Silandor aboard our own ship. We will take you to him if you wish, although he did say that he had two friends with him. Would the other be this ‘Zo-Eee’ you are so worried about?” She signed for First to release Jamimikron from his brutal grip. “Aye,’ he replied, nodding as he tried to rub some feeling back into his shoulders, ‘and I still need to be getting after her, if the Doctor is no’ in any trouble!” He paused nervously, as First slinked around him, leaning down to speak quietly into what appeared to be an auditory organ. “For your information, Jamimikron,’ the officer hissed aggressively, ‘we are Oortelians, not ‘lizard-men’ - and Specialist Palasar is a female.” To Palasar’s fascination, Jamimikron’s face changed color! It became slightly pinker. As First came to stand beside her, Jamimikron glanced nervously between them, then asked her incredulously. “You’re a lassy?’ (Palasar got the impression that he was unable to quite believe it.) ‘But… ‘But ye’ havnae got any… ‘Er, I mean…” As he trailed off his coloration morphed even further into a deep red hue, He seemed very uncomfortable. Palasar wasn’t particularly comfortable herself. She had concluded that aliens like Thadokta conveyed their emotions by distorting the folds on their faces. This was the first hint that they might also communicate like real people, as well. She sincerely hoped that his coloration meant something different in his species, and it was no little relief when he eventually spoke again. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss! I wouldnae have fought so, if I’d known ye’ were a lass… I hope I didnae hurt ye’?” Palasar found this thought mildly amusing, and was about to reassure him when an urgent shout from Tec-Op Choltz interrupted her. “Specialist Palasar! You really need to see this!” Palasar moved over to join Choltz, noting that Jamimikron stepped aside to allow the First to shadow her, then silently slipped in behind him. Beyond the open doorway, she saw two crumpled figures - not too distant - with a third still form visible much further up the corridor. They were recognizably Oortelians, despite their gruesome injuries. They were obviously dead. While a creeping feeling of numbness enveloped her, Palasar watched as First leapt nimbly into the next section of corridor. He obviously intended to rush to examine the bodies, but then stopped short abruptly, looking to his side. He beckoned Palasar to join him. When she arrived beside him she felt sick at heart, approaching the fourth corpse reluctantly. It was clearly a Trooper, but the damage to the head was so extensive that she could say little more than that. Barely aware of Jamimikron scrambling over the door-seal to join them, Palasar took refuge in ice-cold anger as she addressed the First. “Can you explain the presence of these soldiers, First? Did you ignore orders and deploy an advance patrol?” “I cannot, Specialist.’ He was shaking his head in bewilderment, ‘And I did not. My patrol are all present and accounted for. I was not informed that there would be any ghost patrol presence other than ourselves. Presumably I did not need to know.’ His voice had grown quieter as he spoke, and he was visibly trembling with anger. ‘Specialist Palasar, nothing on this derelict is as we were told. As we were lead to believe… ‘I strongly recommend a return to the Indigo Flame, so that we can find out what the Clade Commander’s instructions are - in light of the circumstances.” “Aye, that would probably be a good idea - considering that the big man told you to get off his ship! Did ye no’ hear him?” Jamimikron’s interjected comment took Palasar by surprise, and she whirled to face him. “We all heard the Ancient speak, Jamimikron, but its words were meaningless - are you saying that you understood it? What did it say, exactly?” She asked him urgently. He seemed a little startled and took a step back, but replied indignantly, “I ken what he said right enough! …Though I couldnae give it to ye’ word for word. Like I just told you, he wants you off his ship.’ He glanced around at the scattered bodies once more, then sighed and looked back towards Palasar. ‘I dinnae think you want to end up like these poor laddies now, do you?” Category:Forgotten Suns